Lone Highway
by OptimisticPessimist12
Summary: One late and sleepless night, Franklin decides to take a drive down one of the roads behind his house, where he almost hits a young woman with his car when she suddenly stumbles out into the middle of the road. Her condition leads him to wanting to help her out, though will he soon find himself in over his head? *Possible spoilers for end of GTAV, Ending C.*
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **This is my first go at a GTA V fanfiction, which I have been playing rather intently for the past week or so. I have a fairly solid plot planned out for this, though I am still playing around with it. I'm also making use of the amnesiac cliche (one of my personal favourite cliches). Not too much exciting happens in this chapter, just set up. Next chapter will hopefully be better.

Reviews or what have you are always welcomed. I'm also going to apologize if I get any of the characterizations amiss, hopefully I will have them straightened out as I get familiar with writing these characters.

**Warnings: This story is rated M. It will contain strong language, references to drug use, adult situations, and violence. Also, Trevor Philips, who I believe should bare his own warning. **

* * *

**Lone Highway**

**Chapter One **

* * *

She...

She was going to die.

The fact that it felt like she was suspended a thousand feet in the air on a very thin beam, darkness slowly starting to eat away at her vision, was the only proof she had to the fact. It was a simple _fact. _She was going to die at the base of a hill beside a thin road, most likely face down in the dirt.

How she managed to get there or why she walked this far was starting to fade with the numbness and slowly building ringing in her ears. Her dry and cracked lips were parted as she kept trying to suck air into her lungs, ignoring the pain in her side and the pounding in her head. Her legs were getting harder and harder to control, it felt like they were constantly getting tangled together, leading her to stumble harshly a few times.

As if they knew what she was thinking about it, her knees buckled for a few moments, the young woman flinging her arms out at her sides as she attempted to keep herself upright. It was her only goal at the moment, keep upright and to take one step after the other.

She could _not_ stop. She would have to collapse from heart failure before she would allow herself to do so.

Taking a glance down the road, she noticed that there was a faint light just below where the road dropped. She paused, watching as it started to grow steadily brighter, her eyes wide and mouth agape like it was the most amazing thing she had ever seen.

_What...? What is that? _She squinted as the light started to hurt her eyes, watching as it split into two circular beams that seemed to be moving quickly towards her. Without thinking about how fast the car was going or if the driver would be willing to stop, she flung herself out towards the middle of the road.

She raised her arms out in front of her, palms up as if that alone would stop the impact of the car from hitting her, and she shut her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth. Through the darkness of her eyelids, she could see the brightness growing until the squeal of tires hit her ears, the woman flinching harshly and almost falling over out of fear. When she didn't feel the impact of the car or heard them drive by her, she opened her eyes to the harsh brightness of the headlights. She could see the door to the car open, the ringing in her ears growing with the relief of not being hit.

"I need help..." she gasped out, her eyes on a figure that was walking towards her. She lowered her shaking arms, "so tired, please..."

"Alright, alright," the figure said, standing rather close to her now, the woman seeming to decide that it was male by the sound of their voice. She flinched when she felt something warm grip her arm, her eyes widening for a few moments in surprise.

"...Shit," the figure muttered, "what happened to you?"

"I don't know," the woman said softly, shaking her head, "w-woke up a few miles away from here...it was daylight, then..."

"Look, I'm gonna get you in my car and drive you to the hospital," the figure said, starting to lead her towards the passenger side of his car, though not without some resistance from her legs, which seemed to want to drag behind her instead of walking normally.

"Hospital?" she whimpered, some sense of anxiety washing over her, "I-I don't need..."

"Your face looks pretty messed up," the man said, opening the passenger door once they reached that side of the car, "all bleedin' and shit."

"I don't need a hospital," the woman said as she was lowered into the seat, her eyes shutting momentarily before she forced herself to open them once again, "I just walked for Lord knows how long with a pounding head. I...I just want some sleep."

"I don't know-"

"Please...I just need a bed, or a couch...or a fucking lawn chair," the woman muttered, glancing up at the man standing with his arm leaning against the open door.

"...Alright, look, my house is a few minutes away from here," the man said, helping her into the car fully, "we can take a look at you in the light and decide if you need a hospital. That sound cool?"

"Yeah, yeah," the woman nodded her head, "cool."

She leaned her head back against the seat as the passenger door was shut, a deep sigh escaping her as her eyes drifted shut listening to the hum of the car and the song playing on the radio. Though, she was shaken awake by the car lurching forward, letting out a soft grunt. Placing a hand on her forehead, she hissed at the pain that caused. There was something crusted just above her right eye, her finger tips running lightly over the wound, wincing as it stung at the slightest touch.

_What happened? Why am I cut up like this? I...shit. Shit! _

She could feel herself getting worked up, so she figured she needed to get her mind away from her state of being until she got to the man's house. Sleeping wasn't an opinion, as much as she wanted to do so, so she decided to ask some questions to keep herself awake.

"What's your name?"

"Franklin. How 'bout you?"

She paused, opening her mouth to reply, but found herself falling short. It was like she was digging through a pile of mess, fragments of useless things getting in the way of the important items she needed to find, like her name.

Slowly, something started to come to mind.

"D..." she started, shaking her head, "Da...I don't know the rest. I just...I can't remember..."

"Look, I'm gonna call you D for now. You can tell me the rest of your name when you remember it."

"Okay, that works," the temporarily dubbed 'D' replied with a nod her head, leaning back and looking out of the window at the passing scenery. She could see the lights of a city coming into view, then hiding behind hillsides before appearing once again. It felt like the quickest car ride she had taken, D taking time to make a sort of game out of prying her eyes open when they would shut.

Each time she opened them again, notable changes would pass by the window. More cars, less hillside and more city, suddenly houses appearing. She pushed herself upright when Franklin turned into a small driveway, D's eyes widening slightly at the view of the manor that he just parked in front of.

Franklin shut off his car, getting out and walked around to the side she was on. D looked up at him as he opened the passenger door, allowing him to help her to a stand. Her limbs protested to the movement, causing her to grip the side of the door for more support before her legs started to work. She followed Franklin through a small gate, leading to a pool area where a dog came trotting up to them and sniffed at her slightly.

D was set down in a lounger around the pool, the light allowing Franklin to get a good look at her and for her to get a good look at him. He was a dark skinned man, though she was surprised to find that he looked younger than she had been expecting, larger too. His gaze was hard, a frown on his face as he studied her.

"Shit, what happened to you?" he asked again, D looking away from his face for a few seconds as she attempted to remember what happened to her. There was just a large blank between daytime and nighttime, aside from walking until her legs might just give out for good, and feeling unbearably hot then cold.

Slowly, she shook her head as a frustrated look crossed her face. "I have no fucking idea. I can't even piece together how old I am or what my name is, much less so what the hell happened to me. I'm just...so tired."

Franklin was silent for a few moments, D staring at the city lights in a tired daze. She looked like she just might start to drool, her eyes shaking from the effort of keeping them open.

"I have a guest bedroom downstairs," Franklin said, D prying her attention away from the city and towards him once again, "you can crash there for the night, and we'll see where you're at in the morning."

"Thank you so much, Franklin," D said, Franklin slinging her arm around his shoulder and started to lead her into the house, "could have just left me at the side of the road..."

"Yeah, well, you threw yourself at my car. Didn't have much choice," Franklin said, sounding a little tired himself. D wondered just how late it was, though her thoughts started to space out, the surroundings around her starting to blend together. She soon found herself being sat on a bed, D not bothering to get under the covers and just rolled onto her good side, finally allowing her eyes to drift shut.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: **Here is the second chapter, with some more character development. I decided to set this story after the ending of the game so I don't fall into the trap of rewriting a game you have obviously already played. Also, it's based of ending C.

I'm trying to give the plot a kick in the butt to get it going, so bare with the action-less first few chapters.

**Warnings: This story is rated M. It will contain strong language, references to drug use, adult situations, and violence. Also, Trevor Philips, who I believe should bare his own warning.**

* * *

**Lone Highway**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

D's eyes fluttered open, laying on her back in a bed in a very unfamiliar room. Though, she had to admit, it was probably the most comfortable she had been in a long time...from what she could remember. Judging from her last memories, which consisted of her being mainly upright, it might have just been the relief of allowing herself to be on her back for once. There was something pressed against her side, making her glance over and notice the backpack still strapped to her shoulders and pressing against her back. She slowly rolled over, hissing at the pain in her side as she rolled onto her bad side, pushing herself up slightly so she could pull the bag off of her shoulders.

Falling back down onto her back, slightly out of breath, she clutched the bag to her chest. Just sitting up was much more taxing that it should have been, causing her to close her eyes and mutter some colourful language under her breath.

_Alright, up we get. _

D lifted her legs up and pushed herself fully upright, placing the back beside her on the bed as she bent over and held her injured side. She sat like that for a few moments, breathing and trying to get her barrings once again.

_I was picked up last night...yes, by a young man...Franklin. Okay, so I'm obviously in his house, even if I don't really remember arriving here..._

_Is he home? _

_What's in this bag? Did I have it with me last night? _

_What the fuck happened? I can't remember a thing before Franklin found me..._

D placed her hands over her face, making care to avoid the bruised area as she exhaled. Deciding to take it a step at a time, she looked over at the bag beside her and pulled it over into her lap. It was warn, with some stains embedded into the fabric. Gripping the zipper, she slowly pulled it open and peered inside with a look of complete caution, as if she would find a human head sitting inside.

From what she could see, there was some clothes inside the bag. She dug around, looking at some shirts, pants, undergarments...

There was something solid at the bottom, D attempting to pull it out. It was wrapped in a plastic of some sort, and on closer inspection she realized that it was a white powder.

She got a flash of a number of things in her mind at the sight of it. She felt heat, like the room was ten times smaller and much more stuffier. She saw herself standing over a counter of some sort, leaning over with a small rolled up piece of paper in her hand. She stick one end of it into her nose and inhaled sharply.

D was dropped back into the present, looking down at the item in her hands. They were shaking now, a sort of craving cropping up. She quickly tucked the powder back in the bottom of her bag, shaking her head.

_Calm down..._a voice in her head warned, _one thing at a time. First, I should get a good inspection of myself before I do anything. My face hurts like a bitch, but it is nothing compared to my side. _

_I have some fresh clothes..._D thought to herself, looking back into the bag, pulling out a clean pair of pants and shirt. Slowly, she pushed herself up to a stand. Well, as much as a stand she could handle, seeing as her side only allowed her to straighten out her back so far.

Carefully, she walked towards the door of the bedroom and opened it up to a thin hallway. From what she could tell from the lighting, it appeared to be light out once again. She stumbled down the hallway, glancing into open rooms for any sign of a washroom or Franklin. She gingerly opened one of the closed doors, feeling some relief at the sight of a bathroom. Closing the door behind herself, she approached the sink, placing her clothes down on the counter and glanced up into the mirror.

A small yelp escaped her at the sight of her face, covered in grime, dirt, and dried blood. There was a large bruise covering the right side of her face, spanning from above her eyebrow to just above her jawline in a circular shape. There was a cut above her left eyebrow just before where the bruise began, where most of the blood was located.

"Fuck me..." she muttered, turning her head slowly from left to right to get a better look. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, and even with the pain, she felt like she wanted to jump up and down on the spot. Anxiety was starting to get a hard grip at her mind, her hands shaking as she started to look around the bathroom.

"Alright, j-just got to clean my face off. I mean, it looks not too bad, just a _fucking huge bruise_..." D muttered to herself as she pulled open a cupboard and found some cloths. She grinned softly, turning on the tap and stuck it under the running water. She started to scrub at her face, ignoring the pain that the action was giving her.

After a few minutes of doing so, her skin red from the friction, she scrubbed away at the cut above her eyebrow, hissing in pain as the dried blood was replaced with fresh when she opened up the scab once again.

"Crap," she muttered, looking around herself until she grabbed a wad of toilet paper and pressed it against her bleeding cut.

_There has to be a first aid kit around here somewhere..._

She cursed to herself at not finding anything, so she decided to carefully pull on her clean shirt and pants and try and find a kit somewhere around the house. She looked down at the dirty wash cloth, frowning at just how dirty her face was. She'd have to apologize to Franklin, but she didn't want to have to wash her face again of blood.

D made her way upstairs to the main part of the house, pausing at the sight of the city skyline for a few moments before she shook her head and wondered towards where she heard Franklin talking. He was standing by the kitchen area, phone pressed to his ear. D stopped a few feet behind him, catching the end of his conversation.

"I know we supposed to be layin' low, dog, but she threw herself in front of my car last night. She won't let me take her to a hospital, and I was thinking that you are older than her, maybe you could pull some fatherly thing and get her to go."

He paused, listening to the reply at the other end. D hung back a little bit, feeling awkward that she had just walked into a conversation about herself that Franklin was having with somebody else.

"Alright. Thanks, Mike."

Franklin hung up his phone, turning around and D gave him a quick smile.

"Hey, s-sorry for eavesdropping," she said, "I was looking for a bandage or something, I reopened my cut when I was washing my face."

"Should have said something," Franklin said, "there's a first aid kit in the kitchen. How are you feeling?"

"Groggy, confused..." D muttered, opening up the small green case Franklin passed over to her, "in a hell of a lot of pain, but I'm alright. Say, did I happen to have a backpack with me last night?"

"Yeah, you find something in there that helped you remember something?"

D shook her head stiffly, pulling out a bandage, "just some clothes."

She stuck the bandage over her cut, sealing it on her forehead as she glanced at Franklin as he leaned against the counter slightly.

"Look, I have a friend heading over here to look at you. It's a good sign that you are able to walk around and all, but whatever you ran into messed you up pretty bad," Franklin said, "you should get yourself checked out."

"I don't need a hospital, man," D said, closing up the first aid kit, "my face is obviously bruised up, and my cut isn't deep, and my side...it's bruised, but I don't think there isn't anything else aside from a cracked rib or something."

"Yeah, _or something_," Franklin mocked her, crossing his arms, "just let Mike get a look at you."

"Fine," D said, "I have no familiar people in my life, aside from you, which is only because we met last night, so I figure one more stranger couldn't hurt."

"I know things must be pretty fucked up on your end, but you need to calm yourself," Franklin said, "I ain't kicking you out until you are ready to go. I'm not going to force you to go to the hospital while you are still able to tell me that you don't want to go."

"Thanks," D said, looking at him gratefully, "once I am able to sit up without getting winded, I'll leave."

* * *

D was chewing on her nail, bouncing her leg up and down quickly. There was something eating away at her, and she was sure that it was something to do with what she found in her bag that morning. She didn't bother to go back downstairs, she was that worked up about it. There was a part of her that wanted to take it, sure, but the reason it was giving her such grief was that she had a feeling that she _shouldn't_ have it. D wanted nothing more than to toss it into Franklin's pool, or bury it out somewhere _far_ away.

"Yo, D," Franklin's voice startled the young woman, who turned to look at him with wide eyes. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," D said quickly, rubbing the back of her neck, "I just...I'm going to go take a shower, you know, before your friend shows up."

"Yeah, go ahead, there should be some fresh towels down there."

"Thanks."

D stood, placing a hand on her forehead. She was sweating, wanting to snap at the man letting her stay in his home. It didn't help that her body felt like punishing her with every little movement she took. She wondered back downstairs, not bothering to even look into the room she was staying in. Franklin watched her go for a few moments, a frown on his face.

_What is my name? _D thought to herself as she entered the washroom, _My name is...D. No, it's...D. _

_Ah, fuck it. _

She turned on the shower, stripping down and stepped into the hot water. She winced slightly, not liking being upright as she stuck her head under the water and closed her eyes.

_My name is...D. D...Da..._

_Dane? No. Danielle?...No. _

_Dak...Dakota? _

A smile crossed her face, nodding her head. Yes, that sounded good. Familiar. Dakota.

Dakota what? Who needed last names these days...

She opened her eyes, pulling her head out of the spray. A frown crossed her face as she turned around, looking down at her side. An ugly bruise covered most of her right side, purple in colour with touches of yellow around the edges. The bruise on her face was the same colour, though she was more willing to put up with it. She had to, there was no covering that up.

_What did I do to get these? Fall off a cliff? _

"This is frustrating..." she muttered to herself, turning off the shower and stepped out. There was still the anxious feeling at the back of her mind, making her a little jumpy and snippy. Dakota wrapped a towel around herself, looking herself over in the mirror. Her brown hair was a little unruly, coming down to just below her chin, her eyes a little lighter shade of brown. Though, she was more focused on the bruises again.

She shook her head.

"I don't need a damn hospital," she muttered to herself, "if he wants me to leave, he should just kick me out."

Pulling on some fresh clothing, she left the bathroom and headed upstairs to meet with Franklin's friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: **I figured that I should post up a chapter before the week starts for me. I'm a little unsure about this chapter, but I feel like it works for me. Anyway, enjoy.

**Warnings: This story is rated M. It will contain strong language, references to drug use, adult situations, and violence. Also, Trevor Philips, who I believe should bare his own warning.**

* * *

**Lone Highway**

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Dakota honestly had no idea who this "Mike" would be, though she had a few ideas. She had been expecting someone Franklin's age, maybe a doctor or a med student. Though, she had not been expecting a sharply dressed middle aged man, someone Franklin was obviously close to. Dakota just kind of stared at him for a few moments, her eyebrows pulled together and a frown on her face.

"So, is this the amnesiac?" he asked after greeting Franklin at the door, Dakota narrowing her eyes slightly at the name he identified her as. She wanted nothing more than to remember and not to be known as "_Dakota the Amnesiac_". As the man approached, Dakota pulled herself up to a stand, letting out a sight grunt and placed her hand on her side.

The smirk on his face faded slightly when she looked him in the face, Dakota wanting to snap at him about the fact that, _yes_, she did have a bruise and cut on her face. Actually, she really just wanted to shove her face into a pillow and yell out her frustrations. She realized that, in her frustrated fantasy of just gripping at her hair and screaming, 'Mike' extended his hand out towards her.

"Michael De Santa," he greeted, Dakota reaching out and shaking his hand stiffly.

"Dakota...Generic Last Name."

Michael smirked slightly, Dakota returning the gesture with a quick half smile before sitting herself back down again. She let out a breath she had been holding, feeling some tension in her legs and side release.

"So, you just found her on the side of the road last night?" Michael asked Franklin, the younger man nodding his head.

"Yeah, almost hit her too. She's been refusing to let me take her to the hospital, claiming she don't need one."

Michael turned to look at her again, studying her face for a few moments, "Well, her face is pretty beat up, but it doesn't look too serious. Though, I doubt that is the thing we need to be worrying about, am I right?"

Dakota frowned up at him, ready to deny what he was talking about, though something in Michael intimidated her. He looked rather widely built, broad shoulders and maybe it was the way he was dressing, too. She let out a sigh, looking away from him sheepishly as she touched her side gently.

"My side_ does_ hurt like a bitch..." she muttered, looking back up at him with a frown, "though, I...I don't want to go to a hospital. I mean, I can't remember my last name, the name I am using now might not even be correct, I don't know my age, and..."

"Look, kid, I'll drive you," Michael said, "plus, you can't be much younger than my own daughter. If you are nursing a broken rib, sitting on it for a few days might lead to some pretty bad shit. Plus, if it is just a fracture, they could give you something for the pain."

Dakota didn't really reply for a few moments, biting the inside of her right cheek. What he was saying made sense, but there was just something inside her that was...against hospitals. She honestly just wanted to sit in the shade and lick her wounds so she could get off of Franklin's shoulders.

Then again, this all could have been solved by agreeing to the hospital trip the night before. She was already causing problems...

"Fine," she said softly, "fine, I'll go get my side checked out."

"Good choice," Michael said, reaching out his hand to help her stand up. Dakota placed her hand in his, putting her trust in yet another stranger. Then again, everybody was a stranger to her.

* * *

"So, you really don't remember anything, huh?" Michael asked as they drove away from Franklin's home, Dakota leaning against the window with her hand pressed against her side, which was throbbing rather painfully.

"Sadly," she replied, clearing her throat, "though, I managed to remember my name, at least."

_And the possibility of a drug addiction..._she thought to herself, letting out some air through her nose.

"Well, you could always try that memory recollection hypnotherapy bullshit," Michael said, glancing over at her as Dakota let out a short laugh.

"It sounds like you are recommending it to me and claiming it is bullshit at the same time," she said, an amused smile on her face.

"Yeah, well, as much as therapy helped, I still only trust it as far as I can throw it," Michael replied, Dakota turning to look out the window at the expensive looking cars, the city starting to close around them as Michael drove on.

She really did want to know what happened to her and what caused it at the very least, it felt like she was just wondering around, waiting for someone or something from her past to come up behind her.

"You don't fully understand how lucky you are, kid," Michael said after a few more moments of silence, Dakota turning to look over at him with a frown on her face, "not remembering where you came from, the mistakes you made, the people you know. It's a clean slate, you can do whatever you want with it."

"I may not be able to remember my past, but the people who know me obviously will," Dakota said, looking back out at the road, "it's not really a clean slate if only one side is cleaned out."

"Well, what do you have to fear? From the looks of it, something smoked you on the head and left you on the side of the road. If it was another person that did this to you, they most likely think you're dead. It's a clean slate."

"Clean slate, yeah..." Dakota muttered, sounding like she really didn't believe him. "So, you said you had a daughter about my age?"

"Oh yeah, name's Tracy," Michael said, working his way through the traffic. Dakota was starting to understand that Michael wasn't really one to just roll with the flow of traffic, seeing as he seemed to get irritated at the people in front of him. Though, she was grateful that he wasn't all over the road.

"I also have a son, Jimmy," he continued, "I could get one of them to contact you if you want someone to show you around Los Santos."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that," Dakota said quickly, shaking her head.

"Nah, Tracey could use some better friends and any day Jimmy is out of the house is a plus in my books," Michael said, Dakota smirking slightly.

"Who's to say I'm the type of person you want your kids hanging around?" Dakota asked, "most of what you see now is a result of the amnesia."

"You seem alright, kid," Michael said, taking a glance at her with a slight smile on his face.

"Yeah, but I could be, like, a psychopath hell bent on blowing up cars and punching sharks...or something."

Michael chuckled, "Believe me, I've had my share of experience dealing with psychopaths. You don't seem the type."

"Whatever you say, Michael," Dakota said with a smirk, looking out of the window. She winced slightly as another wave of painful throbbing ripped through her side, she really didn't like being in a car, or moving at all.

Arriving at the hospital or not, she _really_ wanted out of the car and sitting on something stationary.

* * *

The afternoon went by rather quickly, Dakota finding out that she had a fractured rib. Luckily, the doctor seemed to know what he was doing and he prescribed her some mild pain killers and told her to rest up. She felt some relief at knowing that something wasn't seriously wrong with her side and she could focus on her memory situation. Though, even after Michael left, she found herself dwelling on what he had said.

_A clean slate..._

She could be anybody she wanted, completely start over and be somebody different from who she had been. Though, without the memories of her mistakes, she was worried that she could be just walking down the very same path. Hell, she could find herself on the side of the road another couple years from then, no memory of what happened to her.

Like a game over.

_You failed, start again. _

Dakota had a hard time thinking about that, though, seeing as she kept thinking back to the drugs in her bag. She kept getting shakes and sweats, that craving not ever really leaving her. It got pushed back to her mind a couple times, sure, but it always pushed it's way back to the front of her mind again, even more intense than it was before.

_Maybe...Maybe I should just take a little bit of it. To get rid of the craving. _

_You're on pain killers, dumb ass. _

Dakota slammed her fist down on the railing of the balcony of Franklin's home, the city skyline not distracting her enough. She took a deep inhale, as much as it hurt, as the doctor said she should do every hour or so. The medication took most of the pain out the situation, so the anxiety and irritation was all she could focus on, as much as she didn't want to.

"Dakota," Franklin said, walking towards her across the balcony, "you okay, dog? You been standing out here for a long time."

"I'm just...fine, Franklin," Dakota said, trying not to snap at him. Though, the look on Franklin's face told her that he didn't believe her, her heart beating harshly in her chest.

_He knows! _A voice in her head yelled, Dakota quickly looking away from him, her hands gripping at the railing tightly, clenching her teeth together.

"You sure? You don't look alright. You took the medication?"

Dakota nodded her head, "About four hours ago, I might need to take some again pretty soon. I've just been getting these..." she paused, not sure if she wanted to tell him, "these chills and shakes. Though, I am sure it's nothing, just a side effect of the medication or..." he was still looking at her with the same expression, Dakota finally snapping, "_it's nothing, alright!?_"

"Hey, chill," Franklin said, raising his hands up, "you've been acting real shady. Are you doing through some bad memories or something?"

"N-No," Dakota said with a sigh, "I just...I...there wasn't just clothes in my bag. I think I found some...drugs."

"Ah, shit," Franklin said, rubbing the back of his head, "you been using, then?"

"I haven't taken any of it, if that is what you are asking," Dakota said, crossing her arms as she looked out at Los Santos, "though, I might have taken them in my...past life...or whatever. I can't stop thinking about them, sitting in the room. I want to take them, but I don't. I want to get rid of them, yet I want to keep them..."

"Look, I don't know you," Franklin said, "we both don't know how long you have been using, but you don't look like you been using everyday. You could just be going through some withdraw, I dealt with that shit before. Look, dog, I'll help you get through it, but you need to rest."

"I'm probably an addict, Franklin," Dakota said, "you don't need to deal with this shit as well, I'll leave, get a motel room, and deal with it myself."

"I don't mind it, D," Franklin said, "you don't remember why you even have the drugs, you might not even be taking them. I'll help you out, dog."

Dakota stared at him, letting out a chuckle, "Is the loneliness of the place starting to get to you, Franklin?"

"Nah, dog, I just feel some responsibility for yo ass."

"My ass will most likely come with a lot of baggage."

"Can't be anything I haven't dealt with before," Franklin said, a smile crossing his face. Dakota let out a sigh, returning the smile after a few moments.

"If you insist."


End file.
